Watcher
by Empress-Eerian-Sadow
Summary: xaldinxigbar number 2 likes to watch number 3 at weapons practice in secret, but the results of being caught were nothing he would have ever expected.


_xaldin+xigbar equals love_

_for the love of god, don't ask me to explain my ships. just let me have my delusions and let me be. and please review._

* * *

He would never admit to watching the Whirlwind Lancer practice in the courtyard from his own shadowed window. He would never admit to enjoying the spectacle that Number III presented.

Watching Xaldin was like watching poetry made beautifully alive.

He gave a soft sigh as he watched, wishing he felt secure enough to tell the other Nobody his thoughts.

* * *

He wasn't a stranger to the sensation of being watched as he practiced. Had anyplace in the castle suited his needs as well as the interior of the courtyard, he might have simply moved to another location for his sessions. However—aside from the observatory which was Siax's territory—there was nowhere open enough, so he stayed. 

Over time, he grew used to the sensation, to the point where he was faintly—perhaps only memorially—disappointed when his watcher wasn't there. If he trusted all of his fellow Organization members more, he might have been flattered by the attention. As things stood, he merely tolerated the behavior until he could discover the observer and confront him about it.

He had no illusions that Larxene might be his watcher; Number XII had made her relationship with Marluxia evident on more than one occasion. Xemnas and Siax were both too absorbed in the Kingdom Hearts project to really pay attention to anyone else. Roxas was too withdrawn to care when he wasn't with Axel—and Axel was too obsessed with Roxas to bother with anyone else. Vexen was always too lost in his own research to even bother to leave his lab. Luxord cared only for the women he could attract at the gambling tables of various worlds. Marluxia was always with Larxene, scheming his petty schemes and Zexion and Lexaeus were no better in their own basement rooms. Demyx was always cloistered in his own quarters practicing his music—to the chagrin of the rest of Organization XIII. Xigbar was the only Nobody in the Castle that Never Was that Xaldin couldn't attribute an alibi to, simply because he could never predict what would strike the Freeshooter's fancy from day to day.

As he moved through his practice forms, he glanced at each of the darkened windows surrounding the courtyard. In one of them, he caught a glimpse of light reflecting off metal—_Thank you, Marluxia, for installing those lanterns_—from one of the windows in the sleeping quarters.

_Got you._ Immediately he opened a dark portal and moved so that he would appear in front of the window.

He nearly dropped his spear at the face of his watcher.

* * *

He was overcome by shock when Xaldin stepped through the dark portal with no warning. The lancer had been looking directly at his window. 

_Crap. I'm busted._

He was just turning away from the window for a hasty retreat when Xaldin appeared in the air in front of him. Dropping lightly to stand on the sill, Number III looked shocked to see him.

"Why are you watching me?" Xaldin asked after a long moment.

Xigbar shrugged. "You were there."

Pushing the gunslinger backward, the lancer stepped off the windowsill and into the room. "You've been watching me for more than this one night."

Number II knew that he couldn't lie his way out of this situation. Having one eye made it exceptionally easy to bluff his way past the other members of the Organization—his eye patch and facial scars made it hard for them to look him in the eye—but Xaldin had no trouble meeting his gaze. Some part of him also knew that Number III would be more offended by the lie than the truth—and if he lied, the other would quickly manage to find out.

"Well, yeah."

"Why?" If Xemnas and Siax didn't continually harp on about how they had no feelings, Xigbar might have thought that Xaldin was angry.

"Its like watching poetry." As soon as the words left his mouth, the gunslinger slapped his forehead. _Way to sound like a genius._

"Poetry." Xaldin's flat tone didn't convey anything to give away his thoughts on the matter.

Xigbar shrugged again. He really couldn't dig himself in any deeper. "Yeah, poetry. Just because we don't have hearts, doesn't mean we can't appreciate things of beauty."

"You find my practice forms beautiful?" Number III looked genuinely confused.

Xigbar nodded.

"I shall have to think about this." The lancer stepped through a portal, abruptly quitting the room.

* * *

Over the next several days, Xigbar felt Xaldin's eyes on him constantly. The lancer watched everything he did, from his shooting practice to the way he was eating his food. No words passed between the two of them, and Xigbar found himself unaccountably concerned to know his standing with the other Nobody. 

A week passed before they spoke again.

"Spar with me," Xaldin said as Xigbar entered his sleeping quarters.

The Freeshooter was surprised to find the Whirlwind Lancer sitting cross-legged on his bed. "What?"

"Spar with me. Just melee. I want to know if you find beauty in my practice from a personal point of view."

Xigbar knew he couldn't _really_ say no to that proposition. "Just melee? I dunno; that's like asking Demyx to go out and have a real fight."

"I promise to go easy on you." Xaldin grinned, and Xigbar thought it made him look predatory.

Something inside the gunslinger shivered with excitement, and he found himself nodding before he was really ready. "All right, let's go."

Their sparring session more than lived up to Xigbar's self-professed lack of skill. The marksman had never professed to be a fighter, though—he preferred the clean, distant kill that he could safely walk away from.

The first round was over before he could even block. So was the second. And the third. By the fourth round, Xigbar managed to bring his own weapon to bear long enough to block and counter—weakly—before Xaldin knocked his legs out from under him.

"You're going to have to do better than that if you ever have to fight the Keyblade master," Xaldin said, extending a hand to help Xigbar off the ground.

The gunslinger took the lancer's hand and allowed Number III to pull him to his feet. His gaze locked with Xaldin's, and for a long moment something electric passed between them.

The current was broken when the lancer suddenly leaned forward and pressed his lips against the gunman's.

After a brief second of surprised hesitation, the kiss became something deeper and much more profoundly intense. When the two Nobodies broke apart, both of them were breathless.

"What was that?" Xigbar asked, trying to slow his racing thoughts.

"Curiosity," Xaldin replied, releasing his grip and turning away.

Silently, Number II watched him go.

"Curiosity…?" He whispered, surprised by the touch of hurt where his heart should have been.

* * *

Xaldin watched in silence as Xigbar prowled the streets of Dark City systematically exterminating the Heartless that roamed the area. The gunslinger had been hunting the creatures since he had walked away from their kiss, and something in the lancer ached to see his comrade in such a state. 

The senseless—except in the scheme of Xemnas' great plan—slaughter continued for an hour before Xaldin was unable to merely observe any longer.

With a short jump and a gust of wind, he dropped lightly to the street in front of Xigbar. The Heartless retreated, seemingly in relief, at the lancer's appearance. Xigbar's eye narrowed.

"Get lost."

Xaldin shook his head. "No, I don't think I will. Not until you explain yourself. You have been like this since the end of our sparring match."

"Since you kissed me and walked away, you mean."

"…Yes."

"Didn't seem like you and your curiosity would really care what I was doing anyway." The gunman shouldered his way past the lancer. "Get lost."

Almost against his will, Xaldin's hand shot out and grabbed the other Nobody's hood. "Do not walk away from this."

"_You_ did."

"I have had a chance to rethink my position on the subject since then."

"You rethought your position." Xigbar made a sarcastic noise. "And what would that be?"

Xaldin moved around to face Number II, so he could look the other in the eye. "I want to do it again."

The gunslinger's expression turned from sour to shock in the space of a breath. "You what?"

Rather than repeat himself, Xaldin simply grabbed Xigbar's robe, pulled him close and kissed him soundly.

Almost helplessly, Xigbar found himself returning the kiss. His almost-anger melted away in the face of Xaldin's passion and his irritated desire for the other turned into an animalistic need for the Whirlwind Lancer. He found himself becoming aroused by the kiss in a way that he hadn't been since long before he woke up in the World that Never Was.

When Xaldin broke away for a much-needed breath, Xigbar returned the other's tight-fisted grip on his robe to make sure the lancer wouldn't walk away this time. Number III gave him a guarded smile.

"Are you afraid I'll leave again?"

"Honestly? Yeah."

"There is little chance of that." Xaldin moved his hands from Xigbar's robe to his hips, pulling him—if possible—closer than before. Number II's eye widened again with surprise to feel the other Nobody's arousal as well as his own.

"Now what are we gonna do about this?"

Number III gave a predatory grin at the question, then turned Xigbar slightly and shoved him into a nearby wall. Xigbar didn't release his grip on Xaldin's robe and pulled him in for another kiss. The lancer busied eager fingers with the gunslinger's zipper as they kissed, quickly bearing Number II for the world to see. Xigbar returned the favor a moment later.

* * *

Xigbar and Xaldin had been gone for nearly six hours when Xemnas finally sent the rest of Organization XIII out to look for them. As he walked through the nearly deserted streets of Dark City, Marluxia thought it was one of the dumber ideas the Superior had come up with lately. Numbers II and III would come home on their own—the Nobodies of Organization XIII had nowhere else to go. 

But, for now, orders were orders.

He found them unexpectedly as he rounded a corner. Both Nobodies were stripped bare—naked as the day their Somebodies had been born—and copulating in the street.

Marluxia blushed a shade of pink to rival his hair, turned around and walked away.

_If Xemnas wants them home so badly, he can come get them himself._


End file.
